


Raspberries

by sinisterkid92



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, First Time, Season 3, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinisterkid92/pseuds/sinisterkid92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she had bought the dress she had been thinking about him. The clubbing scene in 3x14 ends a little differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raspberries

**Author's Note:**

> Was Kate dating Josh in 3x14? Is Castle still with Gina? I don't know. Let's pretend not because that was not any fun! This is my "I should be writing on my exam essay but fanfics are so much more fun and a tumblr gifset distracted me" (this one: katicisms tumblr com /post/111109778230/i-like-to-feel-shiny). Smut is something I'm still learning how to write, but eh... hope it's alright anyway!

He had been looking at her all night. Everywhere she turned his eyes were on her, each time showing her exactly what he would do to her if they were alone. His gaze would travel down her body slowly, following the curves exposed by the tightness of her dress; a barely there grey one which stopped just as it hit her thighs. It wasn't something she would ever tell him, but when she bought it she had had a scenario like this in mind. Lately every time she bought new clothes she would wonder if it would make his eyes trail her body, and she had even grown her hair because he made her feel sensual, and made her want to embrace the inherent sexuality which she had tamed for so long.

While she changed he had sat on the couch in her living room, and his presence in her apartment caused her nerves to tingle. Clad in only in underwear – matching black lace for the occasion and to get in character – with just a closed door between them had her mind run wild with possibilities of what she could do. One option, which distracted her enough knock her father's watch off of the dresser instead of fitting it into the box, was to walk out there in nothing but what she was wearing and straddle his lap. She could already the expression on her face, the darkening in his eyes as his pupils widened, since she had been on the receiving end of those stares before. Those stares were often times the starting point of late night fantasies with a different type of bullet which was hidden in her bedside drawer. The kiss they shared just over a week ago did nothing to help matters. Knowing just how soft his lips were, and how they felt on hers was just another thing which had her in knots.

Frustrated at her own cowardice, and her inability to curb the desire which flooded her system at such an inappropriate time, she slipped on the dress and rubbed her thighs together in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the wanton. They were going after an elusive dealer who'd murdered someone, and it was definitely not the time to get horny. Especially not horny for Castle whose eyes locked on hers with a something of a kindling flame heating her body.

"You need to hold onto the cuffs," she said, handing them to him with a regretful swiftness that didn't allow their hands to brush against one another. "I'm just going to… put on makeup."

The whole night his gaze had been on her; as he watched her drive his Ferrari with a skilled ease through the New York city traffic, eyes lingering on her hands as she switched gears, eyes traveling along her legs as she pushed and eased up on the pedals, on her hair was she pushed it out of her face, and on her mouth as she talked. They barely spoke on the way over, and she didn't look at him, but each time she said something she could feel his eyes looking at her lips for longer that he should. A part of her, the part which she would normally try to keep contained to a padded room in her mind but had seemed to have escaped for the night, wished that Martha had been right about this being a date. If this had been a date then Castle might have not been clutching his own knees, but maybe he would have reached over and brushed his knuckles against her thighs – she had halted her thoughts there. It was dangerous territory in which she had already been left burned before.

In the club she did her best to try to forget the hormones raging in her body telling her to grab Castle by the collar and drag him out of here and back to her place (and all he's done is look at her), and instead focus on her job. That Castle still looks at her that way, that he leans back to look at her ass as she dances the best she can in the tight dress she's wearing, and she could sense him not moving annoyed her. This was her job. He shouldn't be distracting her like that.

It was easy to be flirty, and it was a relief to be able to express the lust she was drowning in. Licking her lips, biting her finger; it was too easy when it was exactly what she had wanted to do with Castle. She wanted to tease him, she wanted to see him go wild with desire. She wanted to see exactly how far she could take him, and how he would ultimately take her.

When she less than an hour later changes into more professional clothing for the interrogation it was with a slight regret. It was irrational, though. It wasn't as if she had thought the night would end with her taking it off in front of Castle, it was more that the fact that it wasn't even a probability that saddened her. Those gazes that had left a fiery trail along her body had all but stopped in the less sexy, less feminine, clothing. Clothes at work hid her curves, they didn't accentuate the curve of her breasts, didn't reveal the tone of her ass, and they didn't do the sway of her hips justice as she walked.

Afterwards when the clock was after midnight and her makeup was smudged and felt heavy on her face Castle drove the two of them to his place where her car was parked since earlier. He was looking over at her and opening his mouth and then closing it again without saying anything, and he did it over and over again until whatever he was leaving unsaid weighed heavily between them.

"What is it Castle?" she asked eventually, her patience wearing thin with not only his indecisiveness, but also with the case, and with the still tingling feeling at the bottom of her stomach, and that hopeful yearning in her heart that she just could not quench.

"I don't agree with what he said," Castle said, his eyes leaving the road for just a few seconds to meet hers to notice the furrow of her eyebrows. "While the dress was… incredible, what you wear now is not a step down." A slight blush crept on her face, and a genuine smile which she couldn't fend off appeared as well.

"Why thank you Castle." He pulled into the parking garage by his apartment, and afforded another look at her just as her eyes were dropping down from his lips down his chest (he could swear he saw longing in her eyes, but he would never say it since he enjoyed not having his testicles shot off). "You clean up nice as well."

"Beckett are you flirting with me?" he asked in feigned bashfulness.

"Don't play coy with me Castle," she said, twisting in her seat to look over at him as he parked the car in his spot. "You'd be the first person to notice when you look good."

"So you do admit that you find me good looking." His eyes twinkled in that dangerous way which told her that she should be getting out of the car by now, not stay and talk. Not stay and think about how his lips had felt on hers, and the taste of him, and not look at his lips and then his eyes. He noticed. She knew he did because the grin on his face faded, and the twinkle in his eyes turned dark. Left was that fire which was drawing her in, and sucking the oxygen out of the car.

"Yes." Single syllable word was what she managed. His gaze had her pinned, and neither of them were moving to get out of the car or do anything but stare at each other.

"Beckett…" He didn't say anything else, and he didn't have to. Neither of them would know who moved first, and neither of them would remember moving towards the other. His lips were on hers, and this time there was no man with a gun, and no one to stop them from taking it further.

His hands reached under her blazer, brushing against the underside of her breast, and holding onto her waist as he tried to pull her closer, but the console were in the way. He growled in discontent, and Beckett felt the rumble of it deep in her core, begging her to just climb over the console and fuck him senseless.

"Beckett," he whispered as he pulled away from her – one hand was tangled in her hair just as it had been the week before, and the other was at her waist and his thumb was drawing tantalizing circles just underneath the underwire of her bra. It was enough to keep her mind from fully comprehending the situation. He gave her one opened mouthed kiss which just barely grazing her lips "Do… you… want… to… come up?" He punctuated each word with another opened mouth kiss, and she was already panting with desire, and had she not been long gone already she would have been embarrassed at how easily he could get her this way.

All she could do was nod. Words were long gone.

The spell didn't break as they stepped out of the car because all she had to do was look at him, and at the darkness in his eyes and the way he possessed her with only one look, and she was far beyond saving. It would take a lot for her to tear herself away from him now, to be able to walk away and not take his hand, to not follow him into the elevator, and to not lean back against the elevator wall and look up at him. He crowded her, he was impossibly close to her yet not close enough, and the heating look he gave her as he looked down on her had her in a trance. His eyes traveled along the expanse of her face, mapping it out as if he was storing it in his mind for safe keeping. This wasn't just fucking, she understood that as he swept her hair out of her face and searched her eyes for something – she guessed he found it because there was something happening behind his eyes, a realization of sort.

The Castle household was asleep when they walked into the apartment, and she thanked her lucky stars for that because she would not be able to take another interruption, another stop in this relationship of sorts that they had. Instead they were able to walk quietly through the apartment towards his bedroom, both of them knowing exactly what was going to happen between the two of them.

His bed was large, and with everything she had seen and known about him she had never seen his bedroom. When she saw it her mind clicked with her body, and relief flooded her system knowing that the dance the two of them had was about to reach its crescendo, and they would stop dancing around each other and finally come together.

She stepped closer to him, reaching her hands up to his face to pull him towards her. Why they had waited this long for this she had no clue because his hand in her hair and the other pressed against the skin of her back holding her tightly to him felt natural. It felt as if she was not just a kindle to his flame, but that they were the fire.

His lips against hers, and his tongue against hers rendered her unable to think, all she could do was move. So that was what she did. Two steps back his knees hit the bed, and he fell backwards on it with her on top of him. She scrambled herself up so that she straddled his waist, shrugging off the coat she was still wearing and started to unbutton the waistcoat she was wearing as his lips found her neck, and his tongue was licking at the pulse point just below her jaw, feeling her heartrate shoot up even further.

"Becket..." His teeth scratched against her neck as she ground herself against him, and his hands tightened on her hips. "You wear too many clothes." She got the waistcoat off, and this time she was growling because he was right. There were too many layers, and too many buttons to unbutton.

"Shut up Castle," she said instead. He stayed quiet, but she wasn't quite so sure it was because she had demanded it, but because his mouth was on hers silencing her. He flipped them over, settling between her legs and pinning her to the bed to stop her from moving. She could feel him against her, and he was already hard, and she now knew that his cockiness was perfectly warranted if he was as big as he felt. He was the one to unbutton her shirt, and he did try with the first buttons, but scent of her desire reaching his nostrils, and the moans which she didn't seem to be aware of that she was emitting, and the way way her fingers clawed as his back and how she was trying desperately to rock up against him was enough to throw the last of his patience out of the window. He ripped the shirt open, causing buttons to fly off around them, and Beckett to pause her movements and look up at him.

"Castle! That was my shirt!" She didn't sound nearly as disapproving as she had wanted to, not with the way he looked down on her. She was still wearing the lace bra, and it was a thin barely-there material, and her hardened nipples were visible through it.

"I'll buy you a new one," he said, and his hands were stroking her torso, a slow journey towards her breasts. His thumbs rubbed them gently, testing her reaction, and testing that this was actually happening. Her chest heaving for air, pushing her breasts towards him, and as he looked up at her face she was biting her lip and watching him touch her. "Fuck Beckett…" He pushed one strap down, exposing a dark nipple that puckered under his thumb. "You're beautiful."

He kissed her throat and down her chest, and his mouth was on her breast, and the other was unbuttoning her slacks and pushing them down as far as the tight space between them would allow. He was wearing far too many clothes in comparison to her. While her shirt was only halfway off, and she was technically still wearing her bra, he had only removed his blazer.

"Castle," she said, it was hard to speak because it felt as if her heart was in her throat. "Clothes." One word sentences was all she could muster, but he understood. He unbuttoned his shirt as she took the opportunity to pull down her pants. He was fast to undress, and she always expected him to be once she got him this way – she always knew that eventually they would end up like this, one way or another. By the time she had her pants kicked off he was only in his boxers, once again lying on top of her and pinning her down. With only their underwear separating them she could feel the heat of him against her, and he could feel her wetness soaking through.

She growled impatiently as he stilled against her, his hands resting on her waist and all he was doing was looking down at her; she was still wearing the shirt and bra, one breast exposed, and her hair was already tousled, and looked ready to be thoroughly fucked. The grin on his face, one which exuded pride as he store the image in his mind for future reference, had her locking her legs behind his waist and flipping them over.

It was impossible to wait any longer. She pushed his boxers down his thighs, grasping him in her hand. He was big, and as she stroked him once, twice, his eyes darkened to a near black color. She pushed her panties to the side and sunk down on him, his eyes widened at the suddenness of it, but his hands settled on her thighs as she slowly sat down, taking him in.

"Shit… Beckett." He threw his head back, and there they lost themselves. Whatever had happened before this, whatever would happen after this did not matter. His hands were on her, rubbing her, his mouth were on her body kissing, licking, and nibbling at her skin as he explored her body. He removed her remaining clothes twisting them so that he was on top of her. The rhythm they found was familiar, it was as if they fit together and were always meant to end up like this. When the waves of pleasure crashed down on her he swallowed up her moans with his mouth, pulling himself closer and keeping her there.

Afterwards, he had held her to him, and she rested her head against his chest, and her leg was drawn over his waist. Despite the sleepiness that hanged above the two of them they stayed awake, not quite ready to let go of the moment and resume reality.

"I've seen you naked now Kate Beckett," he said after a while. She slapped his chest and looked up and him with furrowed eyebrows and a slack jaw.

"Castle!" He kissed the skin between her eyebrows, and she near instantaneously relaxed again, a mischievous smile on her face remained. He had seen her naked, and she had seen him naked, and she had definitely liked it.

"I like the tattoo," he said, his fingers caressing the tattoo that was low on her abdomen, just under the waistline of her panties. "What was it of now again?" He laid her down on her back and moved down her body.

"It's a raspberry," she breathed as he kissed the tattoo.

"Why raspberry?" He wasn't just kissing the tattoo now, he was slowly inching down.

"You know… blow a raspberry, it was a… uh thing that my uhm boyfriend at the… eh time did a lot… I was 18." She did her best to explain, but he was kissing her, and he was teasing her by avoiding the throbbing spot between her legs.

"Raspberries? Like this?"

She squealed as he blew a raspberry on her stomach just below her belly button.


End file.
